


Fantasy- HP au

by flags



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Art, Because I can, Gen, Harry Potter AU, if I had the time I would write the au propperly, pottermore style art, sherlock shindig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:45:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flags/pseuds/flags
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of manips and ficlets based around the idea of a Harry Potter AU that isn't set at hogwarts, how the characters of Sherlock might do in that universe, done for a fantasy prompt during the Sherlock Shindig</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantasy- HP au

 

Molly Hooper’s parents had just been glad she didn’t turn out to be a squib, they’d had no idea she’d do so well at Hogwarts, or that she’d excel at potions and defence against the dark arts.  
Soon she was interning ar St Mungos and if anything required some extra reading, Molly supposed, it was magical causes of death by accident and the dark arts.   
It was really rather fascinating and she didn’t understand the distressed look the bookseller at Flourish and Blotts had given her as she made her purchases.

 

When John Watson had been told to wait at the Ministry of Magic he had not been sure what to expect, after all he had just been chasing down an ex-death eater (a group that he had to thank for the scar on his shoulder) with his ever surprising new flat mate.  
John had been raised by his muggle dad so it wasn’t until he was a teenager that he got to see just how strange witches and wizards could be, and even by that standard Sherlock was a strange one, and John far too excited by the sense of adventure that the man brought to his life to be scared off by a shady meeting with a stranger in the ministry.  
Greeting him in an office so lined with rare books it reminded John of a much cleaned version of Hogwarts restricted section, the wizard had talked to him, tried to offer him a job spying on Sherlock, the muggle way, since magical means would be surprisingly easily detected.   
John stared down at the list that the man’s quill had diligently scrawled out for him in neat handwriting, and held it out to the man forcing him to lean forward in his stupidly expensive ministry chair.  
John had dealt with secretive wizards far too much in the war and he wasn’t about to work for one now.

 

Of course someone would owl the smugglers to let them know they were being watched, wasn’t that just their luck?   
This was what John thought as he and Sherlock beat a tactical retreat through the back alleys of London, dodging curses and throwing back some spells as they ran.   
To John’s surprise and frustration Sherlock suddenly jumped out into the open air of a main street and stood in the middle of the road with his wand raised and lit up.  
John caught up to him and tried to force his hand down.  
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to let every muggle in the area know what we are?”  
Sherlock rolled his eyes and John mentally cursed the fact that as a pureblood wizard who was already far too smart he had never been impressed by other wizards’ observational abilities, let alone muggles’.  
Suddenly a three decker, bright blue, bus came barreling down the road at a high speed and John braced himself for impact even as it screeched to a stop right in front of them.  
“Just calling us a ride John.”   
Sherlock smirked and lead the way onto the night bus.

 

Irene walked swiftly in the direction to Diagon Alley’s entrance, her session with her last client had run a bit long and the ambassador would probably feel it in the morning but she had gotten the information he needed without the use of any spells or potions that could be tracked back to her.  
She ducked into a non descript alley and took out her cloak, fastening the collar and flipping back the hood in time to see a group of people spot her and star to walk forward.   
Oh, more muggles, chavs by the look of it and their fairly drunk accents.  
A few quick scare tactics and some memory charms later and the gang who had approached her with such dirty intentions were a giggling drooling pile on the floor of the alley.  
Later when in a session with a wizard who’s wife didn’t know he enjoyed the odd jinx in bed, she wondered how both magic folk and muggles could be so alike, all this extracting of secrets was simply a business of knowing where to look and who to get off.

Sherlock checked the extracted potion in the dim light, John was fairly proficient in potions and chemistry but the way Sherlock had combined the two sciences in his research had rather left John behind.  
“Just as I suspected, there are traces of polyjuice potion.”  
He glanced at John expectantly and at his blank look sighed.  
“Do I have to explain everything? The maker of the potion mixes in pieces of a person’s dna, usually through hair, and it allows them to take on the physical appearance of that person for a short while.”  
John stared at the small vial dubiously.  
“How come I’ve never heard of that, sounds like something good to know.”  
“Well it’s hardly common knowledge, only a handful of rare books have the instructions to make it, not something you’d find unless you spent a lot of time in the restricted section of Hogwart’s library as our culprit must have presumably done given his age range.”  
John Remembered going in the restricted section on a dare once, he had narrowly avoided getting caught by Filtch and his mate Mike had been surprised he really did it.  
“Age range? So your say the guy isn’t really an 80 year old witch from Bulgaria?”  
“Obviously, but right now he probably still looks like one, I thought something was off when I saw him, the posture and behaviour were far too inconsistent with the body.”

 

Jim Moriarty knew what it took to get Sherlock to come out and play, the wizard called himself a consulting detective to try and mystify the more old fashioned witches and wizards but they both knew that all he was after was a chase to pursue and a problem to solve.  
Standing in the middle of a Muggle museum and summoning something large and fiery from his wand, Moriarty casually defied everything that the statute of wizarding secrecy stood for.  
 Across the waves at Azkaban at that very moment, every cell in Azkaban lost it’s magical enchantments and soon prisoners were streaming out.   
At Gringotts, hundreds of treasures and money rose from their vaults and, untouched by hand, beat open the doors and flew upwards and outwards, confusing the goblin bankers and sending them scurrying around frantically trying to retrieve them.  
Jim Moriarty had a plan and the end result could mean Sherlock being known as one of the great dark wizards of his time.


End file.
